


Why doesn't Tony Stark like being handed things?

by Earthsbestdefender



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Good mommy Stark, Hopefully some fluff, Smol Rhodey, Some sadness, Tony Stark as a young child, Tony Stark's past, Tony doesn't like being handed things, smol tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 12:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earthsbestdefender/pseuds/Earthsbestdefender
Summary: The plot is as simple as the title. Why doesn't Tony like being handed things?





	Why doesn't Tony Stark like being handed things?

**Author's Note:**

> Short Stand alone thing. Enjoy!

People always looked at the incredibly snarky, rich, handsome, dashing Tony Stark and thought  _Wow that guy must have been very popular in school!_

People always thought this to be true, they only thought this because they had never asked one very simple question: Why doesn't Tony Stark like being handed things?

 

Tony sat crouched behind his favorite tree near the playground praying silently that the fifth graders wouldn't find him. He glanced at his watch. 11:15. He only had to hide for five more minutes then he would be safe until after school. After school he could run home. It was the perfect plan. No contact with the big fifth graders. It was perfect until a hand grabbed the back of his shirt, and dragged him out from behind the tree. Tony was tossed on the ground. His bare knees scraped the pavement. He bit back a cry of pain, but he could feel tears welling in his eyes. His knees stung.

"Aw look pipsqueak is about to cry!" The biggest fifth grader, Jake, sneared. Joe, Fred, and George laughed. Tony wiped his eyes and rose to his feet. The fifth graders stood a good foot taller than him. Tony was terrified, but he knew better then to show it.

"So where is our homework that you said you'd do?" Joe growled. "You know its due next class right?" 

Tony did not have the older boys homework done. He had been busy do his own, and hadn't had time to do the four older boys' various homework assignments. Tony's only option was to was make a run for it. He bolted, but Fred grabbed him and threw him to the ground.

"Where is our homework?!" Fred demanded. Tony curled into a protective ball. They had kicked him a few times before so he knew what to expect.

"I didn't do it," Tony mumbled.

"Aw hear that guys? He didn't do it!" Jake almost laughed. Tony knew he was in for it. George, the muscle of the group, picked Tony up by the collar. 

"Do you remember what I said would happen if you didn't do our homework?" Tony nodded. They had been very clear when they had  _handed_ him their homework. They had said they would beat him up so bad he'd have to go home. Tony believed them.

"Please no," Tony squeaked, "I had to do my own homework."

"What? Coloring? You're in third grade. You don't get homework," Jake spat, "When we  _hand_ you things we expect them to be done."

Tony cried out in pain as Fred's knee made contact with his stomach. Fred dropped him and he crumpled to the ground. It was too late to stop the tears. A foot made contact with his side and he cried harder. 

 

"Here do this for me," Joe  _handed_ Tony a piece of paper as he walked past him during dismissal. He took the paper without argument. His stomach still hurt from what had happened at recess. He had gotten lucky. The bell had rung before the older boys could do what they promised. Tony's mother was sitting outside in front of the school. Tony rushed to her and jumped in her arms.

"Are you okay sweetie?" His mother kissed his head. He really wanted to cry and tell her everything, but he was not a tattle tale. Being a snitch would only cause problems so he said nothing. Tony hugged his arms around his mother's neck a little tighter, "Do you want to go get ice cream?"

Tony nodded. Ice cream would make his stomach feel better. Cold helped. 

 

Maria set her son her down and looked him over. He had lied to her. She could tell he wasn't fine. She would wait to press him. She took Tony's small hand in hers and walked down the sidewalk.

"What kind of ice cream are you going to get?" She asked. 

"I dunno," Tony mumble and kicked at a rock. Maria narrowed her eyes. Tony seemed very unexcited about the ice cream. This was concerning.

"How was school?" Tony just shrugged. Maria thought for a second, and studied the way her son was walking. She narrowed her eyes further. He was walking like he was in pain. Maria let out a sigh, and picked him up.

"Mommy!" Tony protested, but hugged around her neck. Maria smiled. 

They reached the ice cream parlor a little while later. Tony ordered chocolate ice cream, and they sat down together at a small table. Maria studied his every move with careful observation. Paying close attention for things that only a mother would know. Tony poked half heartedly at his ice cream. He nibbled it. Poked at it again. This went on for a long time. Maria finally had enough.

"Tony, what happened at school?"

"Nothing," Tony's gaze shifted to his ice cream. There it was his tell.

"Tony?" Maria nudged him gently with her foot. He flinched. This both startled and alarmed Maria. Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat; he had realized that he had flinched. Maria was worried. What ever had him scared, which he obviously was, had to do with physical contact. He wouldn't have reacted like that if it had been something else. "What happened? And don't lie to me."

"Nothing," Tony mumbled, and looked away, but Maria could see the tears welling in his eyes. She immediately got up and slid to his side of the table. She pulled him into her lap, and he cried into chest. Maria stroked his head soothingly trying to console her weeping son.

"Is someone bullying you?" 

Tony shook his head, and continued crying.

 

Maria carried Tony home and put him straight to bed. She wrote a note to his teacher to make sure Tony wouldn't get in to much trouble for not having his homework done... Homework. That was it. Maria had been slowly noticing how Tony was spending all of his time on homework. His teacher never sent home much homework. 

Maria crept into Tony's room and retrieved his backpack. She took it to her desk and began sorting through the papers in it. She discovered several assignment that were most definitely not third grade work, and they had different names on them. This was a problem.

"Mommy?" Maria whirled around to find her son standing in the doorway, "Why do have my backpack?"

Tony looked half asleep.

"Sorry kiddo, its my time to ask questions," Maria stated, "Have you been doing other kids homework?"

Tony hesitated and then nodded his head. He stared at his feet obviously ashamed.

"You know that's cheating. You could get in big trouble," Maria warned; she didn't like cheating.

"I know," Tony said quietly, and hugged the door post a little.

"Cheating is bad."

Tony stared down at his feet and nodded a little more.

"Mommy... They be mean to me if I don't do it..." Maria inhaled sharply.

"What?" 

"They... um never mind," Tony mumbled and tried to leave. Maria was on her feet and hugging him before he could leave.

"Baby, mean to you how?"

Tony shrugged and avoided eye contact. 

"Do they ever beat you up? Is that you scraped your knees?" Tony looked up in surprise, "What? I'm your mother! You thought I wouldn't notice your scraped knees?"

Tony shook his head.

"Next time one of those kids tries to  _hand_ you something just look them in the eye and tell them you don't like being handed things, and then if they still try to make you do their stuff kick them in the balls."

"But you're not supposed-"

"Tony if it self defence it is okay. As far as that "Violence is never the answer" crap, sometimes you just gotta punch someone in the nose to get them off your back. Remember that Tony."

 

Tony walked out to recess slowly. His mother's pep talk hadn't helped much, but her idea was worth a try.

The older boys were waiting for him. He gulped.

"Hey we need you to do this for us!" Fred shoved the papers toward Tony. Tony stuck his hand up and blocked the papers. He took a deep breath.

"Sorry, I don't like being handed things," The four boys looked shocked.

"What did you just say?" Jake exclaimed and reached for Tony's coller. Tony moved his foot up lightning quick. It hit home. Jake doubled over in pain.

A cry went up from the playground equipment.

"Look! Tony just kicked one of the big fifth graders in the balls!"

"No way!" More third graders chimed in. Tony was to busy being proud of himself to see Fred's fist flying toward him. It slammed him in the side. Tony coughed and fell to the ground.

Tony heard multiple outraged cries from the playground.

"Lets get those big bullies!" Joe was reaching down to pick Tony up, when small stick hit him in the head. The three still standing bullies stopped what they were doing. A large group of third graders was standing a few feet away glaring and pounding their hand with their fists. The fifth graders backed away from Tony and ran away pulling Jake after them.

"I'm James," A boy about Tony's age extended his hand and helped Tony to his feet. Tony smiled at him awkwardly, "We should be friends. You have guts, plus that was a pretty cool line about not liking being handed things."

Tony smiled. No one had ever offered to be his friend before. 

 

From that day forward "I don't like being handed things" stuck. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Questions? Comments? Concerns?


End file.
